Obedience
by Skull Bearer
Summary: I've decided to update this, we now know what's happened to Eltharion, but not the rest of his army, lost, without a leader, in Naggaroth, and with Death Night coming up... From bad to worse.
1. Obedience

Obedience  
This came to me one night in a dream. What can I say? I'm one sick person. The characters belong to the Warhammer world, I'm just corrupting them, my games workshop friends would crucify me if they knew what I was doing to Eltharion.  
  
There are a few changes to the story. Malekith has made a pact with a powerful dragon-king and has had his burns healed, Eltharion has convinced the Phoenix King to let him take the elf wars to Naggaroth, I think that's it.  
  
Witch-King Malekith snarled, enraged at the warrior before him. Eltharion had ruined his last attempt to take the throne of Ulthuan and now the bastard was trying to kill him in his own lands. Blast him. Eltharion readied his sword and took a fighting stance, the blind warrior using hearing to locate Malekith and using the ground's vibrations to gauge his enemies position before attacking.  
  
Malekith bared his teeth, even though Eltharion couldn't see his expression. The Witch-King studied his opponent carefully, he had been defeated by Eltharion before, and wouldn't underestimate him again. A magic battle was out of the question, in fact any battle was out of the question, the rest of Eltharion's army would be here soon. If Eltharion was gone the army would retreat, and a retreating army was a dead army once the appropriate instructions were given.  
  
Eltharion had to be defeated, and fast.  
  
Malekith grinned, he'd just had an idea how to play Eltharion's blindness to his advantage. To hell with sportsmanship.  
  
Malekith flicked a hand, silently casting a spell that muffled all noise in a hundred meter radius. He then concentrated hard and his feet left the ground, hovering a foot above the stones. Eltharion realized something was amiss and charged blindly, missed Malekith and stabbed his sword in the entirely wrong direction. It was a simple task for Malekith to swing his swordhilt down and knock him out.  
  
Eltharion crumpled to the ground like puppet with its strings cut, Malekith negated both spells and picked Eltharion up, throwing him over one shoulder before calling Seraphon and flying back to Naggarond.  
Malekith dragged Eltharion into a dungeon cell and threw him against one wall, chaining his hands to a ring in the wall. Malekith shut the door behind them before walking to stand looking down on the unconscious warrior, smiling like a rack of knives. This was the second time the warden of Yvress had fallen into his hands, this time he wouldn't let him escape, or recover, this time he meant to torture the elf himself.  
  
Malekith knelt beside the still-unmoving Eltharion, trailing his fingers over the warrior's face. The elf moaned slightly in his daze as Malekith leant forwards examining Eltharion's slender face, finely chiseled features, like all elves, thin lips, high cheekbones, aquiline profile. Eyes hidden under a blindfold covering his souvenir of his last visit, his dark blond hair framed his features and spread out over the flagstone floor of the cell.  
  
Malekith traced a finger over Eltharion's lips, when the high elf stirred and woke up.  
  
Eltharion felt cold stone under him, and cold iron binding his hands. -Captured again- he cursed silently, trying to sit up, then he froze.  
  
There was some one very close to him, he could feel their breath on his face and their fingers resting on his lips. He tried to back away, break the contact, only to be pinned down on his back, a hand on his chest to keep him still, too dazed to put up a fight.  
  
Malekith held Eltharion down, his skin was warm under the Witch-king's fingertips. -Hmmm,-Malekith thought, amused at the look of shock on his nemesis's face -He is rather...striking, Bastard traitor though he is, he is desirable.- Malekith smirked and bared his teeth, he knew exactly how to punish the High elf. He lowered his head and trailed a lick down the blind warrior's face.  
  
Eltharion jerked in shock as he felt he attacker's heated breath again and the touch of their tongue on his face, lapping hungrily. Eltharion tried to shy away from the contact but the hand held him still. He struggled against his unknown attacker, gasping. "Who are you? What do you want?...Oh, mercy, stop...."  
  
Malekith burst out laughing. "Mercy Eltharion? From me? Malekith show you mercy? Heh, very funny."  
  
He traced his hands down the stricken elf's chest, slowly unbuttoning his loose shirt, drawing each fastening out slowly, drawing out the moment longingly, drawing out and savoring his prisoner's fear.  
  
Eltharion struggled against Malekith, throwing him off but then falling back as the chains around his wrists tightened, Eltharion hit his head on the stone floor. He struck the wound Malekith had felled him with and nearly passed out from the pain. He felt Malekith's hand pin his head back before kissing him almost tenderly. Licking his lips before pushing into the elf's mouth, tasting him.  
  
Eltharion jerked his head away, trying to kick out at Malekith, the Witch- King drew back mocking the warrior with a harsh laugh.  
  
Malekith caught Eltharion's hands and pinned him down with his own weight, spread-eagled under him. Eltharion gasped as the Witch-King bit him painfully on the throat, drawing blood. Malekith licked it off slowly, tongue scraping his toothmarks, before trailing down to lap at his bare chest, ignoring the warrior's cries of pain and horror.  
  
Eltharion managed to push Malekith off him and kicked him hard in the shoulder with a snarl of desperation, before crying out as Malekith pushed him back down and punched him in the face twice, snapping his head back and striking the floor again. Malekith looped the chain about his arms again, pinning them against the wall. Helpless, Eltharion screamed.  
  
Malekith laughed, now able to free his hands to cup Eltharion's face, "Oh, my dear Eltharion, you are in Naggarond's dungeons. No one can hear you scream and no-one cares."  
  
-Pathetic elf, rather beautiful though, I wonder what he's like it bed?- Malekith grinned viciously to himself -Well, I can find that out now can't I?- He would enjoy feeling the warrior writhe under him, enjoy breaking his resolve, enjoy watching Eltharion submit to pleasure, and to him. Malekith lowered his head and bit the High elf's chest, catching a nipple in his mouth and biting it gently, sucking hard, smiling when he heard Eltharion's involuntary hiss of pleasure and felt him arch against him. Malekith grabbed Eltharion's hair, dragging his head up to kiss him violently. The elf was too shocked to struggle this time when Malekith slid his tongue into his mouth, just shaking at Malekith's touch.  
  
-Oh yes, fear me-  
  
Eltharion had more or less given up the fight, there wasn't much point in it now, he could only lie back and feel Malekith lick his face, hands groping roughly before moving lower. The warrior gasped as Malekith stroked him, running fingers up the inside of his thighs, parting his legs a little, before touching him, arousingly, forcing a groan of pleasure form him.  
  
Eltharion heard Malekith's laugh, heated with lust and desire, he gasped again, pushing involuntarily against Malekith's hand.  
  
Malekith grinned, "Oh yes, you like that don't you?" He purred, fingering Eltharion slowly, wanting him to beg. He felt Eltharion tense under him, Malekith knew the elf's resolve was crumbling, his reactions to Malekith's administrations betrayed him. Fingers brushing the warriors arousal, the Dark elf began unbuckling Eltharion's belt, teasing it out slowly and tossing it aside, he brushed sweat-streaked hair out of Eltharion's face.  
  
Eltharion shuddered each time the Witch-King touched him, Malekith rested his hands over Eltharion's blinded eyes before trailing down to remove his open shirt. Eltharion shuddered as his bare back touched cold flagstones. Malekith's fingers returned to their ministrations, Eltharion arched against him uncontrollably again.  
  
Malekith stripped off his robes and cloak eagerly and lay down on top of Eltharion, biting his shoulder and clawing at his chest, lacerating it with claw-like fingernails. He ground his hips against Eltharion's, growling. He knew Eltharion was sexually excited by the movements, despite his hatred for the Dark elf. Poor Eltharion, he must be really hating himself...  
  
"Do you want this, Eltharion? Do you want me to fuck you senseless?" Malekith hissed through gritted teeth.  
  
"No...please stop..." The High elf groaned, shaking his head wildly.  
  
"Ah, your body tell me differently, my elf, you will enjoy this, despite what your mind tells you, and anyway, you have no choice. Lie back and enjoy."  
  
Eltharion was almost paralyzed with fear and disgust, he knew he was hard from Malekith's touches and hated himself for it. He could feel the Dark elf's naked form against himself, feel powerful muscles twitch hungrily, feel Malekith bite and claw at him, using pain to arouse him. Malekith's hands scrabbled at his waist, pulling off his leather leggings with a snarl of desire.  
  
Eltharion panicked and kicked out violently, feeling a surge of triumph when his knee connected. He heard a spitting snarl, and a heavy blow crashed into his shoulder with such force that it went numb. Malekith grabbed him by the hair and leaned in close. "You stay still, Eltharion, and this will hurt far less, I will take you tonight if I have to beat you senseless, so you may as well enjoy it."  
  
Another blow landed on Eltharion's stomach and the elf doubled up, gasping, before crying out as his bound arms were dragged almost to dislocation by the sudden movement.  
  
He dropped back, winded and aching. He knew there was no point in struggling, better to let Malekith have his sick fun and leave. Before his heart and pride had forced to fight, if only to show that he wouldn't relent. Now however, Eltharion couldn't summon up the energy to struggle. He was exhausted, hurt and scared, the last being the hardest to admit to himself. He was tired, tired to the point where he just wanted this to end.  
  
He felt Malekith's hand on his shoulder and shuddered, he would never forget that touch, long, sharp nails on a slim hand callused with many millennia of swordplay. "Now," His tormentor purred, "Just lie back, don't fight. I wouldn't like to mar that beautiful body of yours again." His hand trailed up Eltharion's chest to his eyes.  
  
Eltharion winced, the touch was pleasurable, but when he thought of who was doing it he was sickened.  
  
Malekith grinned, the elf had kneed him in the abdomen and it had HURT, but this was easily the most satisfying thing he had done. His smirk widened when Eltharion winced at his touch. The Witch-King trailed his hands up Eltharion's legs, parting them a little, if only to see the elf's reaction. Curiously there was none, save a deeply sickened expression on the warrior's face and Malekith felt him tense.  
  
"Not fighting any more warrior? About time. Enjoy." Malekith spoke the last word with a sardonic chuckle, doubting Eltharion would find the neck few minutes pleasurable.  
  
Malekith pushed Eltharion onto his front, smiling more broadly at the High elf's gasp of pain as his bound arms twisted.  
  
Eltharion screwed up his face, tears pouring from his ruined eyes. He had never felt such despair, not even in his previous capture. He knew what would happen, could feel Malekith's breath hot on his cheek, felt hands pulling his legs apart slowly, heard the Witch-King's laugh of desire in his ear. -Oh Gods- He begged -Stop him, please, stop this!-  
  
Malekith nuzzled Eltharion's hair, inhaling the scent of the warrior's fear. He licked his lips and gnawed at the back of Eltharion's neck. "Scream, bastard."  
  
He thrust into Eltharion, gasping and snarling in pleasure and slight pain as he withdrew and slashed into him again in a claiming, torturous rhythm. The High elf shrieked in pain and arched against him, Malekith gave a maddened laugh and panted hard as he thrust into Eltharion. "Scream. Whore."  
  
The pain was unbearable, tearing at Eltharion's body and soul, he howled in agony as he felt Malekith enter him, before ripping him to shreds on the inside as he thrust into him again and again. Eltharion arched against Malekith, uncontrollably, pleasure mixed with rending pain, throat raw with soundless cries. Malekith raked his back with claw-like fingernails shredding him as thoroughly on the outside as in, pleasure now mixed with constant pain until he could barely tell them apart, Eltharion was unable to withhold a moan of pleasure when Malekith licked the back of his neck tenderly. Eltharion cried out, and Malekith bit his shoulder until it bled, climaxing with a howl.  
  
Malekith withdrew for Eltharion, grinning at the shattered warrior. Blood dripped from Malekith's teeth and mouth, the same blood that covered Eltharion's back and ran from between his legs. The Witch-King stood over the High elf, watching him sob hoarsely.  
  
"Very pleasant." Malekith crouched down and whispered the words into Eltharion's ear. "You're a good whore, Eltharion. I guess you enjoyed that, you're actions betray your true feelings, traitor."  
  
Eltharion was curled up, trying to ignore that mocking cruel voice, trying to block out the knowledge of what had happened to him, trying not to notice the flashes of pain running up his spine.  
  
"I think I may keep you," The terrible voice went on," It would be a waste to kill you, my little elf. You have been so kind to let me use you, it would hardly be fair repayment to slit your throat, even if it would be merciful to do so...But since when have I been merciful?" A hand caught Eltharion's chin, and tilted his head up. The warrior felt the Dark elf's breath on his face once more and didn't even fight when Malekith kissed him.  
  
"Much better." Malekith smirked. "I like you obedient." 


	2. Death Night

Death Night  
  
The smoke of burnt flesh rose in streamers above the huge altar. Blood runs in rivulets down the platform, into the screaming, howling, frenzied crowd below. The gore-stained figures atop the platform shriek up prayers to the towering effigy looming above them.  
  
Kill!  
  
Death night.  
  
Murder!  
  
Death night.  
  
KHAINE!  
  
A full moon cowers behind clouds as though afraid it too would be offered up in the festivties. The only light coming from the sacrifical pyres burning around the altar. Half mad with bloodlust; the Dark Elves dance, screaming praise to their dark God.  
  
Upon the altar, Malekith, master and lord of the Druchii, howls along with a praise to Khaine. Holding a blood-soaked blade in one gauntlet and the severed head of his latest victim in the other, he raises both and throws the head into the heaving crowd.  
  
"How kind of the Ulthuan traitors," He shouts to them "To save us the problem of rounding up offerings by turning up themselves!"  
  
Raucous laughter echoes his words. Malekith joins in, thinking about the last battle, with Eltharion gone, it had been all too easy to round the shocked elves up and throw them into Naggarond's dungeons. It really had been too kind of them to come two weeks before Death Night. It meant that they could host a celabration that would put Har Ganeth's slaughter to shame.  
  
His train of thought was derailed by the horrified shrieks of their next'offering', a young High elf warrior. This would have been the first real battle the fool had seen, and Malekith could see in his eyes that he had not been prepared for this.  
  
The moment the elf caught sight of the altar and the armor-bound figure beside it, he panicked compelely. Letting out a terrified scream, he began to thrash madly against the Druchii holding him. Seeing the whelp about to break loose Malekith strode over and grabbed him about the neck.  
  
The High elf stilled when he felt the cold iron closing like a death-trap around his throat, eyes wide with unspeakable fear. The Witch-King tore him out of the guard's grasps and dragged him to the altar. Malekith held him there for a few moments, drinking in the elf's terror and the blood-hungry howls of the surrounding crowd. Looking into the child's fear-maddened eyes, he wondered why everyone thought all high elves were brave and fearless.  
  
A new, nasty idea slithered into the Witch-King's mind. Why not? He hoisted the High elf back up and threw him into the raving crowd.  
  
The bedlam that followed was really something to watch. The best comparison Malekith could come up with was that of sharks in a feeding frenzy. The whelp was torn, shredded, rended limb from limb and stripped of flesh within a minute. Blood splattered the crowd who howled and screamed for more.  
  
KHAINE!  
  
Cynath! Urithair! Thalui!  
  
KHAAAAINE!  
  
Malekith laughed again, Oh Murder God, it had almost been WORTH being thrown out of Ulthan to be able to take part in such revels. Almost worth having been hacked to shreds by demons so he could strike a bargain and have the Pheonix burns healed.   
  
He tore his helmet off and sang the next few lines of the praise at the top of his voice. Another good point, by tomorrow, everyone would be so drunk that they wouldn't remember if he had been at the altar at all, let alone how he was acting. Fuck appearences.  
  
Morathi came to stand beside him and placed an ebony and jet chalice to his lips, he drained half of the scarlet liquid inside and had the rest poured over his head.  
  
Blood ran down over his black hair, running red streaks over his pale, now smooth face. he opened his mouth and let some more trickle inside.  
  
Now high on blood, rage and sheer exhileration. Malekith pulled off his armor, never mind the fact that he was wearing nothing underneath. He threw back his head, shrieking something incomprehensible as another chalice was upended over him.  
  
The next sacrificial victim arrived, a member of the Shadow Warriors this time, Calm, he stood tall and spat at the guards holding him. Malekith rubbed his chin with one hand thoughtfully, he knew this one... Ah yes, Alith Anar, the so called 'Shadow King'. Malekith beckoned them closer, smirking at the proud High elf. The guards wrestled Anar onto the altar and tied him down.  
  
The Witch-King came forward and loomed over Anar, a broard grin splitting his blood-stained face. "Well /Shadow King/" Malekith sneered, "Is this a satisfactory end to your little invasion?"  
  
As he expected, Anar could not let Malekith mock him without retaliating, lifting his head as far as he could, he hissed "You will never win this, we do not fear you, Eltharion will not have died in vain-"  
  
Malekith's grin broadened, "Oh, but he isn't dead."  
  
Anar stopped speaking, shocked.  
  
Malekith leaned forward so their faces were inches apart. "Do you want to know where he is?" He whispered, trailing the razor sharp knife down the High Elf's face, leaving a line of scarlet, "He's cowering in my bedchamber, a carnal-slave's collar about that slender neck, shackled to my bed, awaiting my return." Malekith bared his teeth and licked his lips, "And do you know what I'm going to do to him when I get back?  
  
"....."  
  
"I'm going to pin him down and sit astride his waist, then stick needles where those pretty eyes once were, and then, when he's screaming in agony and clawing at me, I'll tell him what happened to his army, I'll tell him how we set your ships alight, how we trapped you in that canyon and took so many of you alive, I'll tell him of how Belannaer was given to Tullaris and his men, how they used him before cutting his head off-" Malekith drew the knife lightly over Anar's neck"-and fastening it on their standard. How the streets ran red with elven blood tonight and that some of it was yours. Then I'll fuck him, hard, over and over again until he screams. And then, only then," -He leant furthur forward- "I'll tell him how I copulated with your corpse after you'd had your heart ripped out."  
  
Anar's look of horror froze on his face as Malekith ripped the knife across his chest, slitting him open from diaphram to collarbone. Agilely, Malekith leaped astride Anar's body and wrenched his heart out with both hands. He held the organ above his head and let the blood drip from it into his open mouth.  
  
The Witch-King arched back and looked up into the twisted face of his God. The great statue of green marble cluched a ruby heart much in to same way as Malekith held Anar's. Malekith wondered if it was a trick of the light, that blood seemed to be running from that heart too. He smirked and tore at the clothes still covering the Alith Anar's corpse.  
  
Good? Bad? Don't blame me if you vomited on your computer. This was written while listening to Marilyn Manson and Cradle of Filth, but I'm the only one to blame. Even the people who own this aren't to blame.  
  
Review responses to 'Obedience':  
  
Gwen- High elf eh? Hurry up and get on the altar, scum, go on! Thanks for the sensible review, they seem to be a rarity.  
  
Medevilmouse-This is NOT about how many points of Dark Elves I have, this is about writing a fanfiction. If I want to beat Eltharion to a pulp then I have as much right as you have to kill Malekith, this is fanfiction so you have no right to tell me what I can put up unless you're the owner of this site. If you don't like what I'm writing then read something else! No one's holding a bolter to your head and telling you "Read this!"  
  
Incidentally I have about 3,000 points in Dark elves. If you think that 210 points of high elves is impressive then you must live under a stone.  
  
I am not considerate of High elf players because I think that the people reading this prefer Dark Elves, the reference to Malekith puts most players off.  
  
I have not put this fanfiction up to be bad mouthed by some high elf player with zero IQ who has no grasp of capitals OR grammer, and thinks "The Space Things" and "lalalala" are good titles and summaries.  
  
If you think that what you wrote is constuctive and/or makes you look intelligent, then think again.  
  
Her-Dark-Materials- Hi Rowan, thanks for reading this and remaining my friend! It was meant to be an 'ew' fic..  
  
Coffee-freak-Glad you liked it.  
  
Kendraen Ideals- It /was/ no-con, it was rape! Glad you enjoyed it, but if 'Obedience' made you feel bad then reading this may not be a good idea.  
  
wouldn't you like to no- Yes, I would love to know you E-mail address, although I could delete your review, I would rather leave it up, you made me laugh so hard I almost fell off my chair, please, review again. Your flame was the funniest I have ever recieved!  
  
And no, I am not human, I an a Skull Bearer, read the screen name. 


End file.
